


Alone, Together

by PotatoVerse



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst with kind of a happy ending but it depends on how you see it I guess, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Gen, Hwiyoung is trying his best, I really wish I could make it lighter but, Inspired by The Haunting of Hill House, Other, Short One Shot, ghost Chani, ghost Taeyang, mention of body fluids, this story is really dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatoVerse/pseuds/PotatoVerse
Summary: "You can do anything you wish, Kyun! The world might reject you, but don't turn away from it. Dream. Dream and carve your own path."
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Alone, Together

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope I added everything in the tags, but in case I didn't (since this is the first time I'm posting a story here and I really have no idea how the tags work and I'm so sorry about that!): 
> 
> TW: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF BLOOD AND BODY FLUIDS so if this kind of thing upsets you or triggers you in any way, please do not read any further! 
> 
> This story is heavily based on Haunting of Hill house and that series is quite dark, so this one shot is kind of pretty dark too

_''Oh young master, I'm sorry to say that you'll need more than just one childhood to find all the secrets in this house.''_

_Little Youngkyun tilted his head lightly in side and stared in wonder at the man holding his hand, leading him out of the kitchen where cooks and servants anxiously ran around in preparation for another boring party._

_Youngkyun has been in one of those before. It was the 'adult stuff' he always tried to avoid, even going as far as hiding in a tree hollow once, until mister Elisa -the old butler taking care of him- found him and coaxed him out of his little hideout._

_''How can I get another childhood, Eli?'' He said timidly, afraid of anyone (his mother specifically) hearing them._

_The question brought a smile upon the butler's lips, the corners of his eyes forming soft crinkles and he shook his head lightly._

The forced chuckle that followed young Youngkyun's question, the stiffening of those shoulders that carried him whenever he wished to play pirates and most importantly, the fact that it was the first and last time the older man didn't have an answer to his question naturally didn't seem strange to a child.

But at some point many years later, he finally understood the meaning behind those simple words.

It was within the context of every child looking up to their father and seeing a hero. But heroes are not saints. Far from it, they’re vulnerable humans hiding behind a brave façade and fancy suits, whilst many regrets and sins heavily weighted their shoulders down.

Then one day,

_one fine summer evening, sun setting, birds chirping as they flew around looking for a cover in the trees, warm wind soothingly making the long, white curtains in Youngkyun’s room sway_

the thread between hero and villain snapped and with it, Youngkyun’s little bubble popped.

A few hours ago his father came and ordered him to stay into his room and not come out no matter what he heard or saw. He didn’t question his father, he trusted him more than that. Moreover he was old enough to understand that most of the parties his parents hosted were not. . .particularly legal. It wasn’t always like that, oh no! When he was a child those parties were more like those fairytale-like balls. Then something changed. Maybe the guests didn’t like simple orchestras, champagne and fancy lobsters anymore. Perhaps the guests changed altogether.

So Youngkyun did the only thing he was free to do without fearing the repercussions: he read, he drew, he watched as the sun slowly but steadily hid behind the mountains’ peak.

And it was the moment the sun disappeared that the yelling and screaming started. His mother’s screams- oh, it was his mother’s screams!

He hadn’t seen the woman in days, assuming that she was down with a fever again thus the doctor had ordered plenty of rest, sleep, peace and quiet. Not getting close to his mother whenever she got like that was a rule his father set many years ago.

But it was never like this. She never had such a violent episode until now. Her screams sounded raw and scratchy. From his frozen position against the wardrobe he could hear her running up and down the long corridor, her bare feet slapping against the wooden floor making in creak and squeak in protest.

‘’This house is old , young master. It has its own secrets. I pray that you never get tangled in them.’’ Said the man Youngkyun has grown to view as the grandfather he’s never had. ‘’Oh, young master. Please keep your curiosity at bay.’’

The steps suddenly came to a stop and Youngkyun came to the horrifying realization that the light flooding his dark room from the small crack underneath the door, kept changing shapes. He pressed himself harder against the wardrobe and clasped both trembling hands over his mouth. He heard laughter; someone clapped in pure bliss. More steps echoed down the corridor followed by a deafening crash and then. . . . silence.

Staying hidden against the wardrobe for eternity was not debatable. And he would have remained there, had it not been for the sudden turning of the doorknob that turned his legs to jelly and made his knees painfully meet the carpeted floor. The hinges groaned as the door opened further, bathing his room in a warm, homely light. Youngkyun’s eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight of the man he loved and admired -his father- standing there, shoulders hunched, clad in a gray blood covered button down shirt. What really shook him up however, was the empty eyes gazing back at him.

‘’Father. . .?’’ Youngkyun muttered, yet, his voice still sounded uncomfortably loud in his ears.

The man smiled. He took a few steps and crouched in front of Youngkyun, letting a hand rest against the boy’s cheek like he used to do whenever Youngkyun was scolded by his teacher or his mother.

It was painful to see. Forced smiles and tired wrinkles always made his father’s face look much older than he actually was. ‘’My son, my greatest pride,’’ he took a deep breath and tilted Youngkyun’s face slightly upwards. ‘’I want you to run. Run and don’t look back. No matter what you hear or see, just run. ‘’

‘’But father, I can’t—‘’

‘’Take the car and go to Amelia. She’ll know what to do, oh yes she knows everything.’’ The man cut him off and nodded, as if trying to reassure both himself and his son. ‘’Amelia will tell you where to go, my son.’’ He gripped Youngkyun by the shoulders and using every ounce of strength he possessed, he hauled them both on their feet. ‘’Now please run and don’t come back here, please Kyun listen to me. I love you, and I beg you not to hate me.’’

The sheer anguish in his father’s words made his eyes widen in shock. It scared him. Cold dread gripped his soul and his heart skipped a beat but he didn’t have time to mull the situation over as his father gripped his trembling hand and started dragging him out of the room. He saw it when they reached the stairs. The thing that has been haunting him ever since he was aware of himself. It was what finally spurred him into action.

He closed his eyes and _**ran.**_

『••✎••』

Loud chatter and the occasional break of soft giggles could be heard by anyone who decided to take a walk by the riverside late in the afternoon during hot spring days. It was none other than the only child of the Kims, the family owning the enormous mansion near the river along with the surrounding farms and endless fields of crops.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. People who curiously looked could only see the child wrapped up in blankets and gesturing wildly supposedly to his caretaker - a man with white hair held up in a ponytail, leaving a few stray bangs to frame his thin face - who always stood by his side, smiled and occasionally nodded along to whatever his young master was saying.

The sight brought a smile to everyone's face, for the child was the exact opposite of what anyone would expect from a Kim: he didn't act as if he owned the world, he took care of animals and spoke to everyone equally and respectfully. He was a mere child, yet, he owned the hearts of people working for his family.

Kindness always comes with a price.

And as such, the child was born sickly, unable to keep up with his parents' expectations and deal with the world he was unwillingly thrust into.

There was this little detail that no one (luckily) ever seemed to notice though and that was mostly due to the old butler's efforts and unwavering loyalty to his young master.

That child’s name was Kim Youngkyun. And Youngkyun was talking to someone, yes, but it wasn't Eli.

It was never Eli.

Unbeknownst to mere spectators there was another figure by Youngkyun’s side. A tall man seemingly in his early twenties, sporting a white button down shirt, brown leggings and black leather knee high hunting boots. His pale skin accompanied by charcoal black –as well as wavy in a way that always made Youngkyun laugh- hair glistened in the warm sunlight. There was always a smile upon the young man's youthful face.

He listened to Youngkyun's stories, he sat by his side and they spent countless hours reading tales only found within centuries old dusty books.

Sometimes, when the older man was in the mood, he told Youngkyun stories of unparalleled beauty. He talked about a different world in times when life was much simpler and people were not afraid to open up and love unconditionally. He sang songs, recited poems from different parts of the world and played the piano like one of those rudely talented pianists who were unfortunately but inevitably forgotten and forced to make a living by selling their masterpieces in cheap pubs and dark alleys.

In the eyes of a child who was raised to believe that he'd never reach adulthood, those stories and songs were more than a saving grace.

"Say Taeyang,’’ he finally found the courage to ask one day. ‘’Do you think I can see the world one day? Could it be possible for me to. . ." Youngkyun asked quietly, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them like a veil.

He nervously fiddled with the book marker disposed atop the yellow tinted pages of the book resting against his lap. His father had brought this one as a present to him for his eleventh birthday when he came back from another long trip in Japan a few months ago. Kim Jaewook was a busy man. Even so, he always made sure to remind and show Youngkyun his love whenever he was home.

Now one thing Youngkyun could confidently say about Taeyang was that the older man wasn't the kind of person who initiated any kind of physical contact. Thus it came as a great surprise when he felt his hair being tousled playfully and this time, not by the wind. He raised his head timidly and blinked in surprise when he saw Taeyang staring down at him, a gentle smile pulling the corners of his lips slightly upwards.

It was the first time Youngkyun saw something other than exhaustion and pain within those crystal clear gray and tinted with specks of green eyes.

"You can do anything you wish, Kyun! The world might reject you, but don't turn away from it. Dream. Dream and carve your own path."

『••✎••』

"Why did you come back here?!"

Youngkyun bit his lower lip and kept his gaze to the ground. His hands shook and the traitorous voice in his head urged him to look up and soak in the sight of the man who had been both his source of happiness and nightmares of his childhood.

_'𝘈 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦.'_

He couldn't bear this though. Oh, how could he? When the voice he knew and loved held nothing from the warmth and familiarity that had the strength to shift and manipulate nature itself?

Yet, he dared. Living by himself for ten long years, away from this place full of horrors and soaked in memories made him stronger.

His fingers clutched the hem of his black shirt painfully until his knuckles turned into an alarming shade of white, his knees dug deeper into the ground then his head was slowly but surely raised. . .

And his eyes met with nothing but the view of the entrance to the ramshackle house he was born and raised in. Taeyang didn't stand in front of him. What brought him to his knees was a mere stumble and not another prank pulled by Chanhee, Taeyang’s self proclaimed partner in crime and a menace in general. Eli was not here to help him up and auntie Amelia had died a few years after Youngkyun decided to lock the mansion down and let it rot or hopefully drown fast in the continuously growing marshes.

All of a sudden, a soft light came through the messily nailed boards against the window shutters somewhere on the second floor, and Youngkyun distinctly remembered that this part of the house belonged to his mother and her personal maids.

The room was also located there. The room his father forbade anyone but the doctor from entering when mother was having one of her episodes.

It was strange. Youngkyun never loved his mother. That woman didn’t deserve his respect either. The day her mangled body was found by the authorities also marked the day his father disappeared and Youngkyun couldn't stop thinking about how she was responsible for his father's disappearance.

So the feeling of longing for her soft hand against his cheek, the warm embrace and the smell of vanilla was indeed strange. The light was pulling him in like a magnet and that moment, irrationality prevailed.

Youngkyun closed his eyes and-

_It seemed like his parents had decided to throw another one of those prestigious parties of theirs. The house was filled with music and laughter. He went through the front door and his nose was instantly attacked by the smell of roasted turkey and the aromatic smoke of those cigars his father used to always smoke with his friends. It brought about a sense of relief. It kept him grounded, it reminded him of the fact that he still had time._

_A chuckle came from his right and broke Youngkyun out of his deadreaming stupor._

_''Hey, Kim Hwiyoung! Why are you standing there like that? I pinky promise I didn't attach a brick with a string to the door! Come on, you're already late for the party!'' Chanhee said and didn't give Youngkyun any time to think. The seemingly younger and clearly over excited boy grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the great hall._

_''And now let's just-''_

_Youngkyun let out a light oof. He barely stopped himself from crashing into Chanhee's body and bringing them both (to his embarassment and the boy's amusement) skidding against the floor as the other came to an abrupt stop, turned around and grabbed both Youngkyun's hands._

_''-Dance!'' Chanhee flashed that grin that radiated eternal warmth in its' purest form and Youngkyun couldn't help but grin back._

_And so, dance they did!_

\- when he reopened them, he was standing on the ledge of the only window decorating the small room his mother spent most of her time in.

He turned his gaze to the ground and a strangled scream ripped from his throat. Loud and clear but short lived. He couldn’t see the bottom! The darkness terrified him! It looked as if the garden had disappeared and the abyss itself had taken its place.

Instinctively, Youngkyun leaned backwards when unexpectedly he felt a hand –cold, wet, tense- against his back pushing him forwards, directly to his demise.

The pain didn’t hit him until he found himself lying amidst the neglected grass and pebbles. He tried to move his legs but the damn limbs wouldn’t obey him. His arms felt like lead and there was an enormous weight squashing his lungs.

He took in a deep breath only to regret it when he felt something clogging up his windpipe. Was it his own blood? For Heaven’s sake after going through all these years of battling with his guilt, misery and even surviving on his own as the head of a fallen family, his own blood was going to kill him!

**'Why did you come back here?!'**

His body gave an involuntary twitch and he only had the time to turn his head in side as blood and vomit spilled from his mouth, painting the blades of grass a beautiful shade of red mixed with chunks of undigested food and spit. Tears started running down his eyes and his whole body gave another painful spasm.

Oh, it hurt so bad! Why couldn’t he just see life flash before his very eyes, then swiftly move to the other side and skip all this suffering?

_'I don't want to die. I still haven't seen the world. I still haven't found what I've been looking for; oh mother, why are you laughing at me yet again?! You never lookerd at me. I was always a ghost to you. Why are you looking at me now? Why are you staring at me like that?! Stop it, I beg of you! Please!'_

He sobbed, but didn’t take his gaze off the window he had fallen from mere minutes ago. His mother stood there. She wore a white, stained gown and her dark hair fell around her like waves. Her beauty was beyond comparison, her eyes cold and unwavering. She kept laughing and laughing and laughing and---

‘’Hey, hey it’s alright, don’t look at her! Focus on me now sweetheart, come on! ’’ There were hands cupping his cheeks. The urgency and desperation in the voice combined with the realization that someone had pulled his head into their lap and holding one of his hands tenderly, made him blink and finally focus on something or rather, someone other than the figure of his mother.

Had it not been for his broken ribs most likely digging holes into his lungs or his spine ruined beyond repair, he would have jumped and wrapped his arms around the people currently holding him. He would have screamed apologies, cried and banged his forehead against the ground in hopes of gaining their forgiveness.

No one deserves to be forgotten and discarded as part of someone’s wild imagination.

But he couldn’t move. All he could do was let out another broken sob as Chani smiled down at him and Taeyang started running his fingers through his long, brown, wet locks.

‘’ ‘m so-so sorry, so-so sorry. . .’’ Youngkyun muttered between sobs and whimpered miserably when he felt the weight in his lungs increase and another cough building up.

The older of the two nodded and the younger tried to keep Youngkyun’s head a little higher in hopes of making it easier for him to breathe. ‘’This is what we all wished to prevent, Hwiyoung. In this house. . .Not all of us are monsters. ’’ Taeyang said and the crease between his brows deepened. ‘’A part of me is glad that you’re back. Another part of me resents my own self for being so selfish.’’ He let out a soft sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

‘’We can’t prevent the inevitable. But you’re family. You’ve always been and you’ll forever be. ‘’ Chanhee continued and an otherworldly sense of relief washed over Youngkyun’s body at the sound of that deep voice he hadn’t heard in years.

The pain was replaced by numbness, the blades continuously stabbing his insides had ceased their torturous dance. The still functioning part of Youngkyun’s brain had finally accepted his fate, the optimistic part of him whispered ‘Isn’t this what you always wanted? You’re not alone anymore and that’s all that matters.’. And another part of him just wished they would let him sleep.

Chanhee shared a quick glance with Taeyang, followed by a curt nod and the gentle hands withdrawing. The last thing Youngkyun remembered from that night was being carried back inside the house of his nightmares and being lulled into a deep, dreamless sleep by the sound of his family’s voices.

『••✎••』

Life goes on and yet again, loud chatter and the occasional break of soft giggles can be heard by anyone who decides to take a walk by the riverside late in the afternoon during hot spring and summer days. No one can pinpoint the source of those voices and for a while people avoid the place like the plague.

The story of how the Kim family had fallen has now turned into horror stories told by parents to their children in order to stop them from playing in the fields near the river and the marshes.

One thing can be said for sure: if people during those afternoon walks look closely, they’ll see the faint figures of three people sitting by the riverside side by side, sometimes reading books, sometimes throwing pebbles into the water or playfully wrestling.

The forever house stands tall; untouched by time and space, covered in vines waiting for the chance to trap more innocent souls within its’ net.


End file.
